Luck be a Lady
by Fallenangel26
Summary: Caring in the world of bounty-hunters, is not allowed. So what happens when Spike starts to care for someone other than himself? After one night, she runs away, but what happens when they meet again? REVIEW PLEASE!!!
1. This is lucky?

Spike Spiegel, bounty hunter extraordinaire, slumped over, sipping his drink slowly. He watched the deep red liquid slosh around in the glass, reminded once again of how much it looked like blood.

It had been a year since he said goodbye to the crew of the Bebop and struck out on his own. A long, lonely year, of scattered bounties, little money, and too much drinking. 

Last he heard, Jet had retired, found himself a wife, and opened a bar on Io, called 'The Black Dog'. 

Ed and Ein had moved to a boarding school on Earth, where they had adjusted quite nicely and were already wanted for hacking into the governments restricted files. 

Spike's wistful smile faded as he thought of the last member of the crew. 

_Faye…_ He remembered the last time he had seen her. 

_"Goodbye Spike…I wish I…" She stopped and looked down at where a deep red river ran over her hand. "I-I'm sorry…" her eyes sought his, as her body relaxed. "Goodbye Spike…"_

He jerked up, and stood, impatiently running his fingers through his unruly hair. He strode out of the saloon, the wooden doors flapping behind him.

As he walked, his boots kicked of tiny puffs of dust, and the hot sun beat mercilessly on his back. He curled his fingers around his glass, realizing that he had brought his drink with him. 

A sudden volley of gunshot sent Spike flying behind a nearby pile of crates. Bullets zinged through the wood, and whistled overhead, as he crouched behind the makeshift barrier. Spike looked down, checking for bullet wounds. He was horrified to see a dark red stain across the front of his jacket, and the fluid dripping onto the dry ground…

"Alright boys, no use beating a dead horse…or rather a dead man…" 

The forwarding figure in the attackers holstered her gun and strode forward. She grinned when she saw a dark red puddle seeping out from under the crates. "Looks like he didn't fare too well…" she chuckled and headed towards the barrier.

"What the hell?!" There was a deep red puddle of blood, but no Spike Spiegel. 

The lady stared at the puddle while her comrades checked the surrounding area, or stood swearing in shock. 

Suddenly, she crouched and dipped a finger in the puddle.

"Miss! What the hell 'ya doin'? That there's blood!"

She paid the outburst no mind, delicately licking the blood off her finger.

She chuckled slowly, regarding her finger with good-humored annoyance. "Windyard, 2071. Good year for red wines."

The men stared at her as if she had told them that she was retiring to become a nun. 

"This isn't blood. This is wine! Don't you get it? He faked us out!"

She shook her head wryly, and turned swiftly on her heel. "I guess he'll die another day…"

Spike grinned as he watched the men depart, shaking their heads and cursing. He looked down at his ruined shirt. _Stain remover probably doesn't work on wine…_He shook his head, and checked to make sure the attackers had left. 

To his surprise, the mysterious lady was still there, standing next to her sleek fighter-ship. She shaded her eyes and looked directly at where Spike was hiding. She chuckled and shook her head. "You're a lucky man, Spike Spiegel, a lucky man." She saluted him mockingly, and vaulted into her ship.

Spike shook his head as the fighter disappeared into the distance. 

_A lucky man, eh? Is this lucky?_


	2. Bang Bang I'm dead

A/N: Hey all! Just a little info on my story that I forgot to include…

1: This is not Spike x Faye (I think that's pretty obvious by now…)

2: Not liking the end of the series, I'm pretending Spike killed Vicious, but didn't die himself. He rejoined the whole crew on the Bebop (Faye, Jet, Ed, and Ein). The crew spilt up a year later.

3: I do not on Cowboy Bebop (oh how I wish I did!!)

4: I DO own my OC (the lady and Krishta)

5. And here's a shout out to my reviewers:

KIMMU:  Thanks for the compliment! ^.^ Not much plot development in that chapter… I know. Just trying to introduce you to the characters! Be patient! I'll get there…

STRIFE21: Thanks for the review! You make me feel all fuzzy inside!! Arigato!

Now, this chappy is longer, and has some plot development in there somewhere…(wink wink) Please read, AND REVIEW!!!!! Pweease? (insert puppy dog eyes here)

Spike sighed as he clambered into the Swordfish II, not even bothering to close the door behind him. _Who the hell was that lady?_

He swore fluently when he chanced a look at the passenger seat. A single rose lay on a piece of paper.

As he lifted the rose there was loud bang, that caused Spike to throw himself sideways behind his seat.

No other noise sounded, so Spike cautiously picked himself up, looking for damage. There were no new scratches on the outside of the Swordfish II, and he was uninjured. He looked at he rose, and felt himself pale. 

There was a single bullet hole through the petals, placed perfectly, so none of the petals even fell off.

When Spike looked up, he caught a flash of something moving on a nearby rooftop. He looked at the rose and grinned wryly. 

He bowed to the rooftop, before vaulting into his ship, this time closing the door. He sat there for a moment, shaking his head and chuckling, before throwing the ship into drive and flying off.

On the rooftop, the lady stood, watching his ship disappear into the horizon. She smiled, a genuine smile, not mocking or cruel, but a happy smile.

Then, as if realizing what she was doing, she frowned and holstered her smoking gun. 

"You better watch your back, Spike Spiegel. You aren't getting off this easy…"

Spike whistled as he entered the saloon, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

He seated himself at the bar and ordered a drink. Only then did he happen to glance around the smoky saloon. 

What he saw made his eyes widen. The mysterious lady sat facing towards him at a table in the corner. Across from her sat a large man in a trench coat, with a fedora perched jauntily on his head. 

Spike concentrated on making himself invisible, as he tried to hear what they were saying.

"- red wine." The woman was saying. "It was a very effective ploy. I believe you are underestimating him. Sp-" 

The man cuffed her across the face, hard enough to knock her from her chair. 

Suddenly, every eye in the bar was on the pair.

The man stood, and looked down at the lady. "I never underestimate anyone. I do not make mistakes. You should learn how to do that, or your next target will be you." He hissed, turning to the crowd, allowing Spike to get a good view of him. 

He stood about six-and-a-half feet tall, his trench coat was buttoned up to his chin, and his hat was pulled low over hard eyes.

Those stony eyes found Spike's. "You!" he yelled, drawing a gun.

Spike jumped off his barstool, and vaulted over a table, as gunshots rang around him. He sprinted towards the wall, running a few feet up it and flipping over himself, to land facing his assailant.

Spike caught sight of the lady still sprawled on the floor, but with a smoking gun in either hand. He winked jauntily at her, before drawing his own gun and shooting out the window behind him, and leaping out into his waiting ship. He gunned the engine and soared off into the sky, gunshots still ringing off the metal body.

Spike chuckled to himself as he entered the run down hangar that he was hiding out in. _What a great day!_ He pulled off his shirt and cracked his back. _Now, a little practice before bed…_

He began working on his punches and kicks, switching from one form of martial arts to another. When he was finally finished, he looked at the rundown cuckoo-clock hanging on the wall. _Wow. Almost four straight hours of training. That's pretty damn good…_He wiped sweat off his face and turned, to find himself staring down the barrel of a gun.

"Hello, Spike." The lady regarded him with level green eyes, as she cocked the pistol. "I would suggest that you don't make any sudden movements."

Spike sighed and shook his head wryly. He held up his hands in a mocking surrender. "Alright. Bang bang. I'm dead. Now what do you want?"

The lady rolled her eyes. "Cut the crap, Spiegel. Krishta wants your head served with his dinner."

Spike's head shot up. _Krishta!_

_Spike lowered Faye's still form to the blood soaked ground. "Goodbye Faye…" _

_"A touching exchange…" A dark figure stepped out from the shadows. "To bad she had to go and die…"_

_Spike snarled at the man, spitting at his booted feet, sending spit caked dust flying up to stain the dark trenchcoat._

_The man laughed. "She was such a strong woman…I almost wish I hadn't killed her…" The man laughed harshly._

_The man's laugh was cut off as Spike's bullet found his left eye. "Spike Spiegel, you're a dead man! Krishta will hunt you down!"_

_Spike dashed tears from his eyes as he sprinted down the cold hallway, dodging rapid gunfire from Krishta's sub-machine gun._

Lightning fast, Spike's hand lashed out and grabbed the woman by the throat. "What do you know about Krishta?!" he snarled. 

The woman never lost her cool demeanor, but she holstered her gun in surrender. "I work for him. I was talking to him in the saloon today."

Spike froze. _That was Krishta? I let him slip through my fingers…_

The lady raised an eyebrow. "You know him." It wasn't a question, but more of a statement.

Spike regained his composure. "You know his eye? Yeah, well that was me."

The woman blinked then smirked. "Mr. Spike Spiegel, it's an honor to have met you!"

He slowly relaxed his fingers from her neck, wincing when he saw the red welts his fingers had left.

"So. Are you going to kill me now?"

She shook her head and stepped back. "Not when you could just as easily have killed me. There's no honor in that."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "We're bounty hunters. We don't have honor."

The lady rolled her eyes. "Stuff it. Anyways, I won't kill you… Consider it a debt paid. You could have killed me, but didn't, so now I could kill you, but I won't."

Spike shrugged. "Whatever floats your boat. So, what brings you here, aside from a psychotic urge to kill me?"

She sighed in annoyance. "That's for me to know, and you to find out…" 

He noticed a bruise purpling on her cheekbone. "Is that from Krishta?"

The lady shoved his hands off. "What does it matter?"

Spike shrugged. "Whatever."

The lady glared at Spike and walked out of the hangar. She hopped in her fighter, and shifted on the thrusters.

The hangar quickly disappeared from view, swallowed by the barren desert. A short while later, a skyscraper appeared, looking very out of place in the middle of the barren wasteland.

She docked her fighter in the port, and walked slowly into the cold building. As she strode through the silent corridors, a messenger ran up to her. "Lord Krishta wishes to speak with you."

She nodded coldly. "Very well." She led the man lead her to a dark room with no windows or furniture, just a door and a grate in the ceiling.

"So. I hear you paid Mr. Spiegel a visit." Krishta stood in a corner, partially hidden in the shadows.

She nodded and pulled out a cigarette, lighting up, and puffing nonchalantly.

He frowned. "Well? Did you kill him?"

She looked at Krishta and raised an eyebrow. "No."

His expression shifted from shock, to puzzlement, to rage.

"What?! How could you not kill him?! Why didn't you do it?!"

She shrugged and looked at the ceiling, taking a deep drag on her cigarette.

Krishta drew back his fist and slugged her across the check, throwing her to the ground. "You little whore! You'll pay for this with your life!"

He kicked her a few times and pulled out his gun. He grabbed her by the hair, hauling her to her feet, and pressing his gun against her temple. "Say goodbye now…"

There was a gunshot and the lady winced. But the bullet was not embedded somewhere in her head. It was in Krishta's right thigh.

She turned to see Spike Spiegel drop out of the ventilation shaft, throwing the grate at Krishta.

He stood, a smoking gun in his right hand, and a flashlight in his left.

Spike looked at Krishta, who had been knocked unconscious when the grate hit him. "That was easy." He looked at her, concerned. "Are you alright?"

She nodded shakily. "Wow. I really thought that was the end…Um, thanks."

Spike smiled and cockily ran a hand through his hair. "Well, now that you owe me again, how about you meet me at noon in the hangar? No weapons please."

She stared at him. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "Completely. Swear on your honor that you won't bring a weapon."

She rolled her eyes. "Fine. Noon tomorrow. No weapons."

He flashed her a grin, and climbed easily into the ventilation shaft, fitting the grate back on behind him.

The lady stood, staring solemnly at Krishta's crumpled form. Then she spit on him, and strode from the room.

  
  



	3. Something tells me I'm going to regret t...

Spike lounged in the cockpit of one of the abandoned fighter ships in the hangar. Smoke from his cigarette swirled around him, and the broken down radio crooned garbled music.

Suddenly, there was a loud rapping from the hangar door.

The lady stood there, cast in shadow, knocking lightly on the rusted aluminum wall.

Spike scrambled out of the plane, and sauntered over to her.

They sat down at Spike's makeshift table, made from a board resting on two oil drums. "So. How's Krishta taking all this?" Spike asked, leaning his elbows lightly on the table to keep it from tipping over. Once again, he found himself looking down the barrel of a gun. 

He slowly raised his hands above his head, staring at the lady, who glared at him fiercely.

"You swore on your honor that you wouldn't bring any weapons." Spike didn't accuse her, he simply stated the fact.

"Bounty hunters don't have honor, Spike." Her words were taunting, as she threw his own words back in his face.

He stared levelly at her, not moving a muscle, as they locked eyes.

Finally she slammed the gun onto the table with a growl. "Dammit Spike! Why are you doing this to me?"

He sat down across from her and looked over at her, standing above him. It was the first good look he'd gotten, and he committed the facts away in his memory, to mull over later.

She was medium height, several inches shorter than himself, with a slender figure, and lightly defined muscles. She had rust red hair; that fell in slight waves to a few inches below her shoulders. Fiery emerald eyes stared from behind long lashes. A spattering of freckles across the bridge of a perfect nose, and one large hoop earring in her right ear completed her appearance.

She wore a black and red cat suit, with tan knee and elbow guards. Matching tan holsters rode on each hip, with wraparound thigh sheaths holding two long knives. A hat was perched on the back of her head, she had black combat boots on her feet, a black fingerless glove on her right hand, and a red one on her left.

Spike shook his head when he realized he was staring, and grabbed a bell pepper off his plate, popping it in his mouth.

She gingerly sat across from him, and speared a pepper for herself with a fork.

"Well. Since we're eating together, and you obviously know mine, dare I ask your name?"

She looked up startled. "Why would you want to know that?" 

"Well if I'm going to be having you repeatedly threaten my life, I ought to be able to call you more than, "hey you" or "lady", right?"

She rolled her eyes, and pulled off her hat. "I'm known as Fedora."

Spike smiled, and opened a bottle of Winyard. "Fedora. I like it. So… Fedora. What brought you to this neck of the woods?"

Fedora hiccupped, and giggled, as Spike seemed to multiply around her. "Hi Spike! And hi other Spike! And that Spike over there… And that one too!"

Spike (the real one stood), and promptly fell over. "Wow…That's some strong stuff!"

She giggled again. "Yup yup!"

Spike pulled himself slowly to his feet. "Hey 'Dora! Ya wanna dance?"

She giggled harder, and staggered to her feet, upsetting the makeshift table in the process. "Whoopsie! I made a boo-boo!" She put a hand over her mouth and snickered. She grabbed Spike's hand, and they waltzed crazily around the room. "Whee!"

Spike's grin threatened to stretch around his head and chop it in half. "Come on!" He pulled her towards one of the abandoned ships.

The stumbled up the ladder, pulling each other up, until they fell giggling into the backseat.

Fedora hiccupped, and twirled her finger in one of Spike's wiry curls. "That was fun, Spike-Spike! Let's do that again!"

Spike grinned, and reached for her hand, to find that it wasn't there. After finally grabbing her _real_ hand, he pulled off one of the gloves.

She giggled, and tugged at his tie. "Silly-billy Spike-Spike!"

As his arms wrapped around her, she muttered, "Something tells me we're going to regret this in the morning…"

Fedora opened her eyes, as a shaft of sunlight seared beneath her eyelids.

She shaded her eyes with one hand, and sat up. Or tried to. 

Something was wrapped around her waist, keeping her from fully sitting up.

She looked down. _An arm?!_ Almost fearing what she would see, she looked over to see none other than Spike Spiegel asleep next to her.

_Oh m'god! Oh m'god! I SLEPT WITH SPIKE SPIEGEL!_

She looked around in horror. The old hangar was too familiar in her mind, and the worn leather seats they were laying on, felt all too warm beneath her hands.

_Oh m'god! I gotta get out of here before he wakes up…_She looked over at Spike and a small smile crept onto her face. _He looks so peaceful there…I'm sorry Spike. I'm so, so, sorry…_She shook her head, and slid carefully out from under his arm, grabbing her clothes from where they were scattered around the aircraft.

Once fully dressed, she took one last look at Spike, and smiled again. "I'm really sorry Spike. I don't regret what happened. I regret what I'm about to do." 

She kissed his cheek, and brushed a curl from his neck. "I wish I could stay. I wish I didn't care. But I do, and in this world, caring is signing your death warrant. I'm sorry…" she whispered. "This hurts, but it's better this way. I'll just fade away into your memory. Forget me, Spike Spiegel. Adieu." She closed her eyes, as a single tear dripped off her face and landed on his bare shoulder.

"Adieu…" and then she was gone.

When her footsteps disappeared, one hazel eye opened, followed by another, darker one. "Adieu…"


	4. Flat 23

Spike Spiegel, bounty hunter extraordinaire, sat on his barstool, staring solemnly at his glass.

The bartender glanced worriedly at him, setting another wine glass in front of him. "This one's on the house. Ya wanna talk about her?"

Spike regarded the man over the rim of his glass. "One night. We were drunk. She works for my enemy. She ran. That was eight years ago."

The bartender looked surprised. "Eight years? That's hard luck man."

Spike nodded. "I know… She was gorgeous as hell. A redhead, with these bright green eyes. She went by Fedora…"

The bartender snapped upright. "Fedora? You sure man? I think I know the lady you're talking about…"

Spike's head slowly rose. "What…"

"Fedora lives in the Langley District. Two streets over…"

Spike was already charging out the door.

"Fedora Jupiter- Flat 23" Spike's heart pounded in his ears. His finger shook, as he pressed the button for Floor 2.

He closed his eyes, and let the rumbling of the elevator soothe his nerves. _Is it really her?_

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and Spike stepped slowly out.

His footsteps on the plush carpet matched the beating of his heart.

He stopped to check his reflection in the floor-length mirror. A black turtle-neck, black lace-up leather pants, with a black trench coat over top. His black sunglasses covered his mismatched eyes.

He stopped outside the door to Flat 23, and took a deep breath, before rapping lightly on the door.

"I'm coming…" a voice floated through the door, and Spike's heart stopped.

The door opened, and a lady stood there. "Can I help…you…"

Spike was staring at Fedora, just like it was yesterday.

Her auburn hair was longer now, reaching mid-back. She wore a black swoop-necked sweater that hugged her curves, with extra long sleeves, reaching almost to her knuckles. A simple black skirt dropped to her knees, revealing high-heeled black boots.

But her eyes were the same. The very same ones that he had looked into, that night, eight years ago. Those same emeralds locked gazes with his now. "Spike?"

He stepped forward. "'Dora…"

Suddenly, tears formed in her eyes. "Oh god! Stop playing with my mind! Stop!" She tried to slam the door, sobbing.

Spike shoved his foot in the door, and it bounced off the rubbed soles of his boots.

"No! You're not real! Go! Stop! No! Oh god…Spike…"

Spike pushed her inside and shut the door behind him. "Hush! It's really me…"

He held her against the wall, and she sobbed into her hands. "Oh god…"

Suddenly, there was the sound of a gun being cocked, and Spike whirled, to find himself, yet again, looking down the barrel of a gun. 

This time, a small girl glared up at him through red bangs, her hazel eyes fierce. "Leave my mommy alone!"

The little girl had short, flaming red hair, freckles, and she wore the uniform of a nearby private school.

Fedora made a little noise from behind him. "She's takes after her father…"

The little girl didn't move a muscle. "Go away."

Fedora sniffed, and managed a watery smile. "Lucille… Meet Spike Spiegel. Spike…This is Lucille."

Suddenly, the little girl flung the gun across the room and charged at Spike, wrapping her arms around his waist. "Daddy!" she screamed.

Spike stood there in complete shock. He turned slowly to face Fedora, who nodded, a tear trickling out of her eye, and running down her cheek.

My daughter…This is my daughter… 

Spike looked down at the she-demon clinging to his waist. He gently pried her off him, and crouched in front of her, putting a hand to her cheek. "Lucille…How old are you?"

She grinned, displaying a missing front tooth. "Theven and a half!" The tooth made her lisp.

Spike stood slowly, and walked towards Fedora.

She trembled, as more tears trickled down her face. "Spike…"

He strode forward, and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.

She hugged him back, silently sobbing. "God Spike, I'm sorry…"

He pulled back a little. "Hush. It's okay…"

He kissed her softly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

Lucille danced around them, a smile spreading across her face as she hummed. 

Much later, Spike sat on the expensive leather couch, sipping a glass of brandy.

"So I left…I'm really sorry… I started getting sick every morning, so I went to a doctor, and he told me. Nine months later, I had Lucille."

He smiled at his daughter, who was sitting across from him, staring at him with admiring eyes. "She's a beauty…takes after you…"

Fedora smiled tenderly. "She has your eyes…"

Spike laughed. "I could compliment you both for the rest of my life, but I think you'd get tired of my voice…"

"Oh no, daddy! I'd NEVER get tired of your voithe…"

They all chuckled, and Fedora sank down next to Spike on the couch. "Well, what have you been doing, Space Cowboy?"

Spike shrugged. "A little here, a little there…"

Fedora raised an eyebrow. "Don't look like you did a little…" she eyed his expensive clothes.

He smiled slightly. "Bagged Krishta a week after you left…"

Fedora's mouth dropped open, but it was Lucille who answered. "You gotted Mithter Krithta? Wow!"

Spike raised an eyebrow at Fedora, who laughed. "Oh yes, I taught Lucille ALL about our line of work…" She shook her head. "So you put Krishta away? How much'd that bring you?"

Spike put his hands behind his head and leaned back. "Oh you know… 25 billion woolongs…"

Fedora's eyes grew huge. "Twenty-five…billion?"

Spike nodded. "Looks like you didn't do too badly yourself…" he gestured to the fancy flat.

She grinned toothily. "Oh, I did okay…"

"She gotted a bunch a bad men! They were from the Red Dragon Plathe."

Spike chuckled. "Okay? You nabbed the Syndicate?"

Fedora blushed. "Yeah… They tried to hustle me in an alley."

Lucille giggled. "Mommy thoweded them!"

Spike laughed. "She sure did!"

Something caught Spike's eye, and he walked over to the window and glanced down.

Cursing, he whirled. "We gotta go…NOW!"

Fedora jumped to her feet and joined him at the window. "That's…That's…Krishta!"


End file.
